


Supervillain Dream Date

by KittyCryptid (Skulduggery)



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skulduggery/pseuds/KittyCryptid
Summary: A technical glitch leaves the world thinking that Megamind is having a "win a date" sweepstakes. Ready to write it off as just another disaster, Megamind is startled to discover that he has a very enthusiastic fan base online---and they're eager to win an evening with Metro City's most menacing villain. So, spurred on by a lonely heart and the promise of new thrills, he decides to move forward with the contest.Suddenly, both he and Roxanne Ritchi are faced with the reality that he's the most eligible bachelor in Metro City. Everyone wants something to do with him, and the flood of attention brings to light all sorts of complicated feelings.
Relationships: Megamind/Roxanne Ritchi
Comments: 48
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Megamind and I love Roxanne and I had an itch to scratch. Enjoy. (And if you notice any errors in character names, etc... feel free to let me know. I wasn't really checking myself.)

Forty-seven minutes late.

Forty-seven minutes. Twenty-three seconds. And. Counting.

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” Megamind threw his head back and rolled his eyes in Minion’s direction. “The man’s got super-speed and he can fly. There is absolutely no excuse for this.” 

Minion was clammy, even for a fish. His eyes darted back and forth between Megamind and the computer screen, his scales gleaming in the electric light. “Uh, sir…”

“What?” Megamind grumbled. He knew that tone of voice. But _how_ , exactly, could this day could get any worse? Stood up by Metroman? _The nerve!_

His gaze slid to the empty chair specially reserved for his favorite hostage. It had been a mistake not to kidnap Roxanne. Even if she didn’t play a direct role in his plan, things just seemed to go a little better whenever she was around. She was like his very own stolen good-luck charm.

“I think there may have been a problem with the broadcast.”

Megamind frowned, padding over to the monitor in front of Minion. “Problem,” he repeated, his tone more of a statement than a question.

“Well, you know, the big game is on today, so I figured I’d move us over to the backup channel…”

Megamind narrowed his eyes.

“Except it looks like there was a local college broadcast going on at the same time… just a little student station… annnnnd it looks like they were talking about some celebrity having one of those ‘win a date’ sweepstakes…”

Megamind canted his head, growing impatient. “The _point_ , Minion!”

“The signals got mixed up. And now everyone thinks you’re the one holding the ‘win a date’ sweepstakes.”

A stone dropped into his stomach. Metroman hadn’t stood him up—he hadn’t even known he was supposed to show. Instead it just looked like—like what, exactly? Like Megamind, Supervillain Extraordinaire, was trying to get a date?

He grimaced. He’d weathered more than his fair share of embarrassing failures, but this one really had to take the cake.

“Oh, good, and here I was starting to worry that I _wouldn’t_ be the laughing stock of the city for once.” He gestured sharply for the brain bots to start cleaning up. As they took down the massive red curtain at the back of his lair, his gaze lingered on the gleaming chrome of his latest mechanical menace. A car, by the loosest definition of the term, fitted with all sorts of traps and toys to make for a good chase. A Megamobile. They’d done such a nice job with the custom paint, too.

What a waste.

“Actually, sir…” Minion continued, even though he _knew_ Megamind wasn’t in the mood. The villain shifted his steely gaze in his friend’s direction.

“I went onto the internet to see how much damage control we’d have to do, and. Well. There’s good news and there’s bad news.”

Dark eyebrows arched at Minion. He was still sullen, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What’s the bad news?” he prompted cautiously.

“The video’s been uploaded and it’s spreading like wildfire. There’s no way we can contain this now. It’s gotten over fifty-thousand views—and that’s just the top result.”

“What’s the good news.” His tone was flat, incredulous.

“You’re not a laughing stock. Turns out… you’ve got a lot, a _loo-ooot_ of fans out there. And they’re excited.”

Megamind stared at Minion for five solid seconds and then jostled him out of the way. “What?”

A quick glance at the screen. This wasn’t their internal system. “What is this.... Gyooooogle?”

“It’s a search engine, sir. It searches the internet.”

Megamind was already skimming the search results. He avoided the internet as a general rule—why would he want to engage in a massive social forum with legions of sheep?—but it was easy enough to understand. On the right side of the screen was a profile of him, complete with a flattering picture and a brief biography, with the most popular books about him at the bottom. Metroman and Roxanne Ritchi were listed as suggested searches near the top of the screen. There was a row of news articles beneath that, most of them fresh with gossip of the supposed sweepstakes. And then…

Then there were the videos. Only one row on this screen, but as he arrowed through they never seemed to end. Copies of his broadcast, reaction videos. An internet thrumming with excitement.

He scrolled down. More news. Fan sites. Blogs. Forums. Social media profiles. All of them dedicated to him, and all of them exploding with activity.

“Oh,” he murmured. What else was there to say?

He clicked on a video at random, skipping through the intro to the middle. Two girls sat at a desk with microphones in front of them.

“---God, I knew he was a genius, but this? Win a Date with a Supervillain?” One of the girls wagged a finger at the camera. “You’ve thought about it. You know you have.”

The other girl looked flushed, biting her lip. “I’m just trying to figure out where this is coming from, you know? Like, I’m sure there’s some kind of plan at work here, but what could it possibly be?”

“Oh, come on. It’s a power move, for sure. They might be building a museum for Metroman, but Megamind knows who the people really want.”

He paused the video, stunned. "Wh…" At a loss for words was a foreign feeling to him. "Don't these people realize I'm evil?" he finally managed.

"Well, sir, the general consensus seems to be that you only ever try to kill one person, and even him you haven't done it successfully…" Minion trailed off under Megamind's withering stare.

" _Of course_ I only try to kill one person!” He gestured wildly with both hands. “Who else would I kill?? Killing random members of the public would be—would be—too easy, **_tasteless_ **."

He fell silent, his gaze locking back onto the screen. Blurbs from websites streamed praise for Megamind—ranked him in league with the all-time sexiest supervillains—and suddenly his thoughts were tripping down the rabbit hole, through the twists and turns, toward a disastrous _maybe_.

He let himself think, for just one moment— _what if?_

Apparently there were leagues of people out there eager to date him. And there were villains out there with girlfriends, weren’t there? Granted, usually those girlfriends were villains of their own right, but—maybe it was just a matter of finding the right one. Maybe someone out there had the potential, and merely needed his guidance to come into her own.

Not a henchman, but a _partner_.

“Sir…?” Minion ventured.

“Start the preparations, Minion. We’re making another broadcast. This time, make sure there’s _no interference_.” He paused. “And we’re going to need a website.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While having wine with friends Roxanne comes face to face with the uncomfortable fact that Megamind is a hot item.

Two days later, Roxanne Ritchi was filling her third glass of wine.

“Alright, alright,” Sara was saying. “There’s no way I’m letting any of you go home tonight before we address the elephant in the room.”

Several sets of eyes shifted toward Roxanne and she shifted uncomfortably, tipping the bottle so her glass was filled almost to the brim. So far she’d managed to hedge the topic of Megamind’s broadcast. But there was no way her stitch n’ bitch group was going to let her get away with that. For all that they were a knitting club, they rarely got around to knitting when they got together. Usually, the night ended with bad Hallmark movies and someone passed out on the couch.

“What?” she said.

“Oh please,” Candice snapped back, lifting a finger into the air. “There is no way you’ve spent as much time as you have flirting with the guy and you don’t have some feelings about his little Supervillain Dream Date contest.”

Roxy cringed at the moniker that had swept through social media. “Yeah, okay. You want my thoughts? It’s a mistake. A  _ literal  _ mistake. You watched the broadcast, right? Megamind’s not big into editing… at all. Ever. What you see is what you get. Obviously there was some kind of technical glitch. All I know is, the sweepstakes is  _ definitely  _ not happening.”

Heather and Candice exchanged glances. Something in that shared look felt like two lionesses rallying for a renewed assault.

“But if it was…” Heather said, a coy grin curling across her face. “You’d definitely be entering, right?”

“I sure as hell would,” Sara muttered, garnering an  _ amen  _ from Candice.

“Wha—why would I be entering? Like I don’t spend enough time with him already?”

“He’s not big into editing, remember?” Heather taunted, her expression nothing short of wolfish. “We see  _ everything  _ that goes on during those kidnappings. Including the crazy amount of chemistry the two of you have.”

“Ooh, girl.” Candice set down her glass firmly enough to send red liquid sloshing over the edge. “You’ve never been that hot with anybody. Not even Metroman.”

_ We were never a thing.  _ The thought raced through Roxy’s head and she clamped down her jaw. “That’s just—it’s just banter, you know? It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do when I’m tied to a chair.”

“Fine, you’re not entering,” Sara shrugged. “Better odds for the rest of us.”

“Again, it’s  **not happening** .” Roxanne’s eyes flitted across the other women in the room—all seven of them. “You guys really think he’s that attractive?”

“The man struts around in black leather and spikes,” Amanda said, ticking off her reasons on her fingers. “He’s blue. He’s a supergenius who can probably build a flying car in a matter of days.”

“Hours,” Roxanne corrected without thinking, and Amanda threw up her hands.

“Case closed,” she said.

"Okay," Roxanne grit her teeth, unsure why she was so rankled. "How about the fact that everything he tries to do fails?  _ Miserably? _ "

"Yeah, but he doesn't give up," Sara said, propping her chin on her palm with a dreamy smile. "You've gotta admit, it takes balls to constantly pick a fight with the most objectively powerful man in the world."

It was a thought Roxanne had entertained before. She just didn't think it had occurred to anyone else. She downed a third of her wine in one draught.

The TV flickered. Amanda clutched at Candice's arm suddenly. What—?

"Greetings, Metrocity," curled a familiar voice from the television. Roxanne's blood ran cold at the smooth cadence and she downed half of what was left in her glass. She glanced around at her friends, taking in their rapt expressions before she turned to face the TV. That familiar blue face greeted her, and she had to admit—with that devilish smile on his face, he did look good.

He leaned back in his seat, inspecting the nails hidden by his gloves. What the hell did it matter if it made sense? It was effective.

"No doubt by now you've seen my last broadcast. Obviously, we encountered some technical difficulties that have since been…" he cast a sidelong glance offscreen, no doubt toward Minion. "Resolved."

"Told you," she muttered, taking a triumphant sip from her glass. Five different hands shushed her.

"I'm sure you've also caught wind of a so-called Supervillain Dream Date sweepstakes." He raised an imperious eyebrow and she braced herself for this whole fiasco to come to a close.

"It's not the sort of thing I ever would have come up with." He shrugged, adopting a more casual attitude. "But what the hell? Let's have some fun with this thing."

_ What? _

"If you go online to the Gyooooogle, you'll now find that Supervillain Dream Date is a website. Which you can use. To enter."

A URL flashed at the bottom of the screen.

"Since there will no doubt be questions, I've also created a Tweeter account—"

"Twitter, sir," interrupted Minion's disembodied voice.

"—Whatever.” Megamind flapped his hand impatiently offscreen. “You may contact me directly there."

Another URL flashed on the screen—this time his username. 

_ iammegamindyouim _

Evidently he'd had a difficult time finding one that wasn't taken.

"And to whet your appetite, we've prepared something special just for the ladies of Metrocity." He flicked his fingers at the camera and the screen faded to black. 

Was this? No. He hadn't made a dating profile video. He  _ couldn't _ have.

A low rock beat filled the room and everyone held their breath. A picture faded back into view—a tastefully shot slow motion video of Megamind pulling on his gloves, long fingers flexing. "By this point," came his smooth, sensual voiceover, "You may be wondering just what it is that a Supervillain could offer you."

ADVENTURE flashed across the screen in bold letters, trailed by footage of one of his more notable battles with Metroman.

ROMANCE flashed next, with a shot of Megamind toasting the camera with a glass of wine. There was a fire in the background. Not a fireplace… Roxanne squinted at the screen. A car?

FREEDOM flashed next. The roar of an engine heralded Megamind's hovering motorcycle. He raced across the horizon, cape flying, the city sprawling below him.

"Cooking? Cleaning?" He was in a cavernous hallway now, striding toward the camera. "Find you a man with a robot army that can do both." A brainbot lowered into view holding a tray with a fresh glass of wine, keeping pace with Megamind's quick stride.

Amanda had her hand pressed to her mouth and she made a small noise.

"And of course…" he threw open a set of double doors, revealing a massive, dark warehouse cluttered with parts, machinery, and tools. Most of it was covered in heavy drapes, leaving his inventions to the imagination. 

"There's no place like evil lair."

The next shot was a slow zoom toward Megamind, centered in frame in his console chair. Never had it looked so much like a throne.

"Will you be the lucky winner? I hope to be seeing you soon." He broke into a trademark laugh and the screen faded to black. 

The room was silent. Roxanne's glass shattered against the hardwood floor.

She jumped up, angry at herself, face still flushed from the video. "Damn,” she cursed, unsure if it was at herself or the video.

The spell was broken. Her friends looked around, dazed as she hurried into the kitchen to grab some towels, a broom, and a dust pan.

"Holy shit," Amanda said as Roxanne whisked back into the room. Candice moved to help clean up glass and wine.

"I think Megamind just became the most eligible bachelor in Metro City."

Roxanne froze, her heart in her throat. "You can't be serious." Megamind had a way of making a spectacle of himself, but this was on a whole new level.

Worse, this time it might have  _ worked _ .

"I mean…" Candice said, tipping her head almost apologetically. "That man can  **get** it."

"Come to mamaaa…" Sara sang to her phone, no doubt typing the URL.

"You're entering?? Seriously??" It was a good thing Candice had taken it upon herself to sweep glass, because holding a towel on the floor was about all Roxanne could manage at the moment.

"You can't stop me, Roxy," Sara said, shaking her head at her phone. "I've got too much wine in my body to regret impulsive decisions right now."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megamind is stunned by the aftermath of his broadcast. Roxanne starts trying to sort through her feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, typing furiously, trying to get as much fic written as possible before Thanksgiving---

Megamind watched the (safely pre-recorded) broadcast on a monitor in the lair. He was sweating buckets.

Objectively, he'd done a lot of crazy things over the years. And this topped them all.

"This was a bad idea," he said flatly.

"Excuse me, sir?" Minion was hesitant. Stunned, almost. Megamind didn't make a habit of letting his self-doubt show.

"Why did I do this to myself?" He moaned, his cheek sagging against the heel of his palm. He knew the answer, of course: loneliness could be a powerful motivator. He simply hadn't counted on the flood of uncomfortable feelings that would come with this particular scheme.

"Now, hold on, sir," Minion cautioned. "We should at least check to see if you got any responses."

Megamind dragged his hands down his face, dreading an empty inbox, but Minion was right. Might as well face the reality that he'd made a fool of himself again.

He logged into the email that had been set up for the sweepstakes. The heavy black zero taunted him.

"Um, sir?"

In a futile gesture, Megamind refreshed the page.

The number jumped to 237 new messages. He refreshed again. 584 new messages.

He sat back in his chair. "The website's down, sir," Minion was saying.

"Down?" Megamind echoed numbly.

"Down. It… couldn't handle the number of people trying to get through."

Megamind blinked, hovering the mouse over the refresh button. Then he shook his head, pulling his hand away like he'd touched a hot stove.

"Then we should fix it," he said.

Yes. Tech problems were familiar. Those he understood, could straighten out and fix.

The fact that there were people out there—a lot of people—who genuinely wanted to spend time with him… that would take some getting used to.

* * *

By midnight, most of the girls had gone home. Amanda, Candice, and Sara were still huddled in a tired, drunk gaggle on the other side of the room. Roxanne had changed into her pajamas and now she lay lounging on the couch. She was careful not to let the others see the screen of her phone, which hadn’t left Megamind’s website for at least the last 45 minutes. It was sparse—mostly styled photos of Megamind and a sweepstakes entry form.

Her gaze lingered on a picture of his face and she forced herself to look at him— _ really _ look at him—see him with fresh eyes like they did.

Inhuman characteristics aside, he was conventionally handsome. Not like Metroman, but attractive all the same. He had a harlequin sort of face; a pleasant arrangement of features set alight by the spark of his personality. She’d seen more of him than almost anyone—and in spite of that, it would take her a lifetime to learn the wealth of emotions he wore. He had a taste for theatrics; he was a convincing actor. But even with all those masks, there was something incredibly honest about his face.

More honest than even Metroman.

And maybe that was what was bothering her about all of this. It was as if the world was seeing him for the first time, but they’d latched onto him like a piece of meat. They didn’t think of him as a person, because to them, he’d only ever been a shadow. She  _ knew  _ him. She’d seen him in the spaces between his maniacal broadcasts. She’d seen him and Minion carefully readying their schemes like actors getting ready for a play. She’s seen him at his highest and his lowest, and in the moments when he was  _ painfully  _ normal…

And she didn’t want him to get hurt, she realized.

Seventy-something life sentences aside, there was something very pure and vulnerable about Megamind. He’d taken more beatings than she could count, but heartbreaks? How would the menace of Metro City cope with being dumped?

She’d seen real disappointment on his face before. Usually his failures were loud and catastrophic, a panic-riddled rush before Metroman brought Megamind to justice. She didn’t think those failures bothered him much. He’d been taking beatings since before the city knew his name. He always managed to pick himself up and dust himself off, waving goodbye to his rival with that shit-eating smile that promised to meet again soon…

It was the quieter defeats that seemed to hurt him more. The schemes that didn’t end with a battle, but with silence and solitude. A broadcast cut short, a calamity in the lair that put an end to his plans before they began. She’d glimpsed something of his internal struggle in those moments—a constant frustration with himself he rarely let show through on the surface. And when his shoulders sagged and his face dropped like a kid who got coal for Christmas, she had felt sorry for him. Wanted to comfort him, even.

It was only now that she realized she’d idly filled out the sweepstakes form. She swallowed hard, quadruple-checking her information. It was so neat and tidy, the SUBMIT button so pressable…

She glanced up at her friends. Amanda had sprawled out on a chair to fall asleep. Candice and Sara were still caught up in conversation, but she could see they were slowing down.

It was now or never.

Her thumb descended on the SUBMIT button before she could second guess herself, and then it was too late to take it back.

She’d be upset about that in the morning. For now? She felt a grim satisfaction with herself. She wasn’t going to win, but at least she could satisfy her idle curiosity. And once some poor girl got drawn from the crowd, Roxanne would be the first in line for an interview.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxanne can't escape the Megamind craze that's swept the city, even at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I writing instead of packing for my Thanksgiving holiday? You betcha.

“Have you seen Megamind’s Twitter feed?” Caroline asked, swiping through her phone as she waited for the coffee machine to slowly fill a new pot.

Roxanne felt a twinge of irritation. Although she didn’t love being solo on field reports with Hal, at least Hal wasn’t going to obsess about Megamind to her. “Nope,” she answered just a little too curtly. She met Caroline’s gaze over the rim of her mug.

“We’re doing a human interest piece on him—”

“Ironic.”

“ _ —So _ I was thinking we could pad it out with some material from his Twitter.”

“And?”

“Well.” Caroline walked over to Roxanne and showed her the screen. As she scrolled through, there was a series of apparently candid photos featuring Megamind at work, each one captioned BOWG BOWG BOWG.

Roxanne let out a quiet laugh.

“Do you know what BOWG is?” Caroline asked, furrowing her brow. “Is it some kind of acronym? I Googled it but it all led back to his Twitter.”

“It’s the brainbots, Caroline.” Roxanne found herself grinning into her coffee. “He’s letting his brainbots run his Twitter. It’s kind of like if you were to let your dog run your social media for you.”

A slow smile spread across Caroline’s face as she looked down at the screen again, this time in understanding. “And his dogs have been sneaking pictures of him?”

“Apparently. I’ll bet he doesn’t even know what they’ve been posting. As soon as he finds out he’ll probably hand it over to Minion, and then the whole thing is going to change completely.”

Caroline glanced at the coffee pot and hesitated. “You know Megamind pretty well, don’t you?”

Roxanne felt a sinking pit in her stomach and clutched her coffee mug tighter. “A little. If you want a real expert, there’s a guy named Bernard who works at the county library. I’m pretty sure he’s read every book about Megamind that’s out there. He probably even wrote a few.”

“Yeah, but that’s all the stuff that everybody’s seen before. You’ve met him in person. Talked to him. Flirted with him.”

Roxanne resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Was  _ everybody  _ going to bring that up?

“Thanks but no thanks. I’m not really interested in doing an interview.”

“Just… consider it? Maybe? It would be a huge favor. I’d owe you one.”

She threaded a hand through her hair. “What would I even talk about? I mean, it’s not like we hang out or anything.”

“ **Megamind: Behind the Scenes** ,” Caroline announced, framing a shot with her hands. “It doesn’t have to be much. Just a little bit about what he’s like in person. People will be hanging on every word.”

Roxy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You know who knows what he’s like in person? The warden of the Metro City prison. Why don’t you interview him?”

Caroline huffed a sigh. “Yeah, but he’s a  _ man _ . He doesn’t get it. People want to hear what a woman’s got to say.”

“I’m sorry.” Roxanne paused, licking her lips. “Just what story are you trying to tell, here?”

Caroline took a step back, realizing her mistake. “I mean, nothing like that. I didn’t mean to imply…”

Roxanne waved a hand at her. "You know what? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it—I get it. Just—I’m not going to do an interview, okay?”

“Okay.”

Roxanne hurried away from the breakroom before she had to field any more questions from coworkers. It didn't help that reporters, as a rule, specialized in sticking their noses where they didn't belong.

She sank her teeth into her lip as she sat down at her desk. She had work to do, dammit. She didn't have time to get tied up in knots over Megamind.

Still, after five fruitless minutes of staring at emails, she found her hand drifting to her phone. Opening Twitter. She wasn't looking for Megamind, she was just…

Except he was right there. Everywhere. Trending. As she scrolled through her feed, every post was either about him or retweeting him. Thirst tweets. Creative acronyms for BOWG (Badass Overlord WorkinG?). GIFs of him toasting the camera. And, of course, candid photo after candid photo.

She could see the appeal. Megamind was the sort of man who was constantly aware of the attention of others. He put on a show. But not for the brainbots. Here she was seeing him as they saw him—hard at work, tireless, driven. Real.

She put down her phone. Was it voyeurism looking at photos he didn't know about? They were harmless enough, weren't they? It wasn't as though the brainbots were about to betray their beloved master.

Still. She felt as though she ought to tell him. Just to be sure. If only she could contact him...

She grabbed her phone again, tapping his profile, then the message button. She wasn't shy about DMs—she contacted people on Twitter for work all the time.

_ Hey. You've seen what your brainbots have been posting, right? _

She tapped out the message slowly, her pulse ramping up with every word. Which was silly. She never got nervous when she was tied up in his lair with a giant ray gun in her face, so why should she now?

Send.

She set her phone down like it was made of eggshells. Done. Now she could try to focus for an hour or two.

Meeting tomorrow at two-thirty… she could probably—

Her phone chimed with a notification. A direct message on Twitter. Suddenly her heart was in her throat as she picked up her phone.

It was Megamind.

_ They've been instructed to show discretion. _

That definitely hadn't come from a brainbot. Minion, maybe? She wasn't sure, but she told herself it was Minion. For all that he was a talking fish alien with a robot gorilla body, he was less intimidating. She tapped out a reply.

_ But have you actually looked at the pictures? _

There was a long pause. She opened an email on her computer in a half-hearted attempt at focus. But the minute the notification came, her hands were on her phone.

_ Very flattering, don't you think? I coded an algorithm to analyze and emulate award winning portraiture. _

Her stomach twisted. Definitely not Minion. Was he answering his DMs personally? Unlikely, if he'd given the brainbots the run of his account. He had to be getting flooded with messages. 

Had he answered because it was her? She wrote a quick response.

_ You don't mind, then? _

This pause was longer. A minute, maybe two. She was finally able to convince herself to start working. Then came the chime.

_ You're used to the attention of the public. How do you deal with it? _

She stared at the message and tapped out a reply.

_ What do you mean? _

Another long pause. She didn't even bother with the pretense of work this time. Her eyes were glued to the screen until his reply appeared.

_ People. Everywhere. All the time. They want to know what I'm doing, what I like. Everything. It's exhausting. _

She blinked. Was he…? Confiding in her?

She felt that wave of sympathy again, mixed with a measure of trepidation. This was a very vulnerable piece of him—one he usually kept locked away. What did it mean that he was willing to talk to her so freely?

_ You don't have to do this, you know. You can call it off. _

She wrote back, not letting herself consider whether that was something she really wanted. She waited two minutes, then four. No response. 

"Hey, you're doing a report on the Metroman Museum on Friday, right?" 

Roxanne jumped. It was Caroline again. She fumbled with her phone, turning it over on her desk. Just in case. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I am." She brushed her bangs away from her face, trying to act casual.

"Danny had a great idea. Get this: public opinion poll. Should a section be added to the museum for Megamind?"

Roxanne blinked at her. "Seems extreme."

"And people are gonna eat it right up."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megamind agonizes over the temptation to cancel the sweepstakes. Roxanne feels jealous of another woman entering the sweepstakes and allows herself to acknowledge the real reason why.

Guilt gnawed at him for neglecting Roxanne's message.

His heart had jumped in a most peculiar way when he’d seen the message crop up among the sea of (ignored) notifications. He  _ wanted _ to talk to her. She was a familiar comfort in all of this chaos. But cancelling the sweepstakes?

It was a complicated notion. One he couldn't— _ wouldn't _ —clarify over Twitter.

He frowned at the circuit under his magnifying glass, frustrated at his own clumsy soldering. It had bled all across the circuit board. Best to burn it off and start over.

There was a part of him that very desperately wanted to cancel the sweepstakes; it was the part that had grown too complacent with solitude. He was supposed to be the rebel, the thrill-seeker, unfazed by the trifling prospect of the mundane.

What kind of supervillain was he, that he wanted to slink back into his shadows and keep his heart far, far away from anyone? What kind of malevolent mastermind was he, that he feared some ordinary woman might look upon the whole of him and judge him unworthy?  _ Unloveable? _

**Unloveable** . The word physically ached in the back of his skull.

More frightening still was the thought that he might be running away from exactly what he’d been desperate to have all along. What if there really was someone out there who could love him for what he was?

He couldn’t turn his back on that. Not so long as there was a flicker of possibility.

The solder began seeping across the circuit and he hissed in frustration. Fine.  _ Start again! _

“Sir, if you have a minute, I’d like to go over some designs for your outfit for the big date.” Minion flounced into the workshop—one of  _ many  _ in the evil lair—oblivious to Megamind’s internal struggle.

Megamind cleaned up the mess of solder and straightened, realizing for the first time that the headache might have something to do with the hours he’d spent hunched over this desk. “Oh?” He adopted a light tone. He wasn’t ready to explore his dour thoughts with anyone, even Minion.

The fish’s face was bright as he unfurled a set of designs in front of Megamind. They were—

_ Simple _ .

Megamind frowned, taking in the black silhouette. He’d expected something spectacular—the sort of thing the Emperor of the Universe might wear. Not whatever this was. "Where's the collar?" he asked.

"It's there, sir, don't worry! It's just a little shorter this time so it doesn't hide those handsome cheekbones."

Megamind spared a glance up at Minion, then turned his attention to the drawings again. "No blue?" His voice came out slightly more pathetic than he intended.

"I was going for simple yet  _ elegant _ . Like a tuxedo, but more…  **you** . All black just felt right. But! Don't worry. You've still got the silver accents, see? And spikes in all the right places, of course."

"They're small," Megamind grumbled.

"More romantic, less murder-y!” Minion countered brightly.

Megamind stared at the design. He had to admit, it was striking. Not as domineering as he usually went for, but…

"You think it will look good?"

"You're gonna be the best dressed villain in town, sir."

* * *

Roxanne was staring at her Twitter feed, a sinking feeling in her stomach. The latest viral addition to the  _ #SupervillainDreamDate _ tag? Selena Stiles’s enthusiastic announcement that she’d entered the sweepstakes. And now every gossip site and fan account on the internet had picked up the news.

Selena Stiles: gorgeous, talented, and the top billed actress in all the biggest blockbusters for five years running. Roxanne didn’t usually see other women as competitors for the attention of men—especially not intelligent, motivated women that she looked up to. But Selena… she was American royalty. It would be a wonder if Megamind didn’t cancel the contest so he could ask her to dinner outright.

Roxanne should have been thrilled by the idea. She respected Selena, didn’t she? The actress had a heart of gold. Whatever happened with Megamind, she’d be good to him, and he was sure to be charmed by her. Happily ever after, perfect ending.

So why was she so disappointed?

Roxanne stared at her reflection in the window of the news truck, ignoring the streets as they flew by. What did he think of her, anyway? Why had he singled her out for his maniacal schemes all those years ago? Was she just another pawn to the mastermind, or did he actually find her attractive?

Attractive. Like Megamind was to her.

She couldn’t deny that anymore. Somehow the realization had gotten lost in years of their games, but it was painfully true. She had been glued to her phone from the moment this fiasco began, and every time she saw a picture of him—or a GIF, or a video—her stomach twisted itself into knots.

He was  **attractive** .

It was a dangerous trap and she fell for it before she had a chance to catch herself. She imagined touching him, exploring the soft leather that covered him from head to toe. He was shockingly strong, in spite of his wiry frame—what would his arms feel like firm around her, holding her close? She closed her eyes, and in the safety of her thoughts she could almost feel his gloved fingers pressing into the small of her back.

What would it be like to kiss him?

“You fallin’ asleep there, Rox?” Hal asked from the driver’s seat.

Roxanne shook herself free of the fantasy, appalled at herself. “No, just—thinking. That’s all.”

“Well, don’t think too hard! Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” He laughed at his apparent joke.

She offered a weak smile in response, writhing in her seat to tamp down the feelings that had been stirred up. This was… a lot to digest. And she definitely wasn’t going to try and straighten it out while she was on the clock. Sitting next to  _ Hal _ , no less.

_ Still,  _ said an enticing voice in the back of her head, _ it’s a thought worth exploring. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a super eventful chapter, admittedly. Lots of feelings and THOTs. But you guys are gonna LOVE the next few!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxanne requests an exclusive interview with Megamind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a long travel day yesterday and did a lot(!) of writing. The momentum isn't going to keep up, unfortunately. I'll do what writing I can between holiday festivities, but I don't anticipate a new chapter until Monday. We'll see!

The brainbots notified him the minute Roxanne sent him another message. It had been two days since their last conversation; five since the official start of the sweepstakes.

A brainbot swooped overhead and dropped the phone into his waiting palm. He twirled his wrench as he set it aside, his mood brightening at the mere thought of Roxanne.

_I have a question for you._

_And just so you know—a 'yes' would really mean the world to me._

He narrowed his eyes at the two messages that had been sent in quick succession. Intriguing.

He tapped out a reply.

_Go on…_

The waiting between messages was the worst part. He teased the brainbots with a piece of scrap metal until he heard her reply.

_Can I interview you?_

He stared at the message. Three dots appeared near the bottom of the screen. There was more.

_I've been fielding requests for interviews all week. Everybody wants to ask me about you. So I figure… why not take the people straight to the source?_

He felt his lips tighten into a thin line. An interview? No one had ever interviewed him before, not even Roxanne. He knew how they went, of course—he always watched her broadcasts. He'd just never imagined himself to be the person sitting opposite her.

Not without a few restraints in place, anyway.

 _Still,_ it wasn't as if he was going to say no. He typed his reply.

_Sure._

He'd barely put down the phone when it chimed again.

_Great!! Where? When??_

He smiled. He didn't see her excited very often. He hummed a tuneless melody as he wrote his reply.

_I can send Minion to kidnap you at an undisclosed time and location?_

Another quick response.

_Perfect. I'll make sure I've got a camera._

* * *

"An undisclosed time and location" turned out to be the next evening, when she was on her way home from work. The lair was immaculate; he'd hung fresh curtains and positioned a few extra lights to make the interior look _particularly_ evil. She'd never remarked on his efforts before, but maybe things would be different when he wasn't threatening her life.

He tapped his heel as he waited for the roar of the invisible car's engine. The lair was eerily—blissfully—silent, except for the occasional passing BOWG of a brainbot. A perfect stage for an interview with the master of all villainy. He ran his fingers along the furled edge of his collar, framing it around his face. It wasn't unusual, kidnapping Roxanne—but this time felt different. Special.

The invisible car roared into the lair.

His pulse ramped up and he arranged his cape around him in his seat. Casual yet intimidating—that was what he was going for.

The car door opened. "Can we not do the whole _fireman carry_ thing this time?" came Roxanne's voice. "I was hoping I could film the whole encounter from start to finish. Give people the authentic Megamind experience."

"Oh!" Minion was surprised. "Um… suuuure."

Interesting. Why not? He took a deep breath and prepared his most wicked smile. She seemed to be wandering, taking in the sights of the lair.

"Miss Ritchi," Minion said. "This way, please."

He timed out her steps, listening for her to reach the perfect spot…

And turn. He spun his chair to face her, enjoying the way her mouth fell slightly agape. He took her in with a quick glance, his gaze following long legs up toward her the hourglass waist of her dress. He'd been kidnapping her for years, and she was still the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

He met her eye. "Miss Ritchi," he purred. "I understand you have some questions for me."

* * *

Holy. Hell.

She thought she had it together. She'd given herself the old pep talk in the car. She'd steeled herself to look him in the eye, told herself it was just like all the times before.

But as she set up her camera on a handheld gimbal, Minion peering over her shoulder, she knew it was different this time.

In the past, Megamind had always been the one in control. He'd decided what happened, when, how—sometimes he even managed to predict what she might say or do, and factor that into his plan. (Brilliant bastard.)

And, sure. She was still in _his_ evil lair. But it was _her_ broadcast, _her_ interview. There wouldn't be any ropes or death traps this time—just conversation. And words were the one realm in which she could comfortably face off against the supervillain.

She took her time, shooting a few establishing shots of the lair, and then a bit of B-roll. It was fascinating, having free license to look and wander. She'd never realized just how incredible this place was. It felt like a boneyard where nameless terrors were laid to rest; mechanical carcasses were arranged in an order she couldn't comprehend, suspended in their slumber until it was their turn to awaken beneath the master's touch. What schemes lay dormant in these shadowy corridors? She'd never felt a strong desire to explore his lair—not when there had been more pressing matters at hand. How much she'd missed.

"Miss Ritchi," Minion said, and she turned her camera toward him. "This way, please."

She turned, following his lead, panning the camera up from the lumbering limbs of his body to the bob of his fish head. He directed her through a high curtain that had been drawn back, and—

There he was.

She held her breath as Megamind turned toward her, resplendent in leather and steel. His gloved hands were perched on the arms of his chair, his chin high and proud. And on his face was that smirk that had charmed half the world.

"Miss Ritchi," he greeted her. She'd never noticed the deep growl in his voice before, but it made her toes curl. "I understand you have some questions for me."

Where had her words gone? They had to be in her somewhere. She realized that her mouth had fallen open and she composed herself, straightening under the weight of his stare. "Yes, thank you for seeing me. Do you mind if I set up in here?"

"By all means."

"I didn't bring a tripod. Do you have a stool or—?"

A brainbot dropped out of the shadows and whisked the camera from her hands. _Award winning portraiture._ "Oh—okay."

I've got a chair for you right here, Miss Ritchi," Minion said, setting down a metal chair. Nothing quite so grand as Megamind's rolling throne, but a step up from the rickety old hostage chair.

"Thank you. Can I—?" She turned toward Megamind and hesitated, holding up a lapel mic. "Can I clip this to you?"

The request seemed to take him off guard. He paused, then nodded too enthusiastically. "Yes, of course! By all means." Standing up, he presented himself to her.

Was she subtly checking him out while she looked for a good spot to clip the mic? Absolutely. She drank in every curve and plane of his body, hugged by miles of gleaming leather. And was that cologne he was wearing? Was that routine, or was it just for her?

Her fingers teased at the edge of his tall collar, dangerously close to the skin of his throat. He was warm. She'd never noticed how much heat he produced—had never been close enough to feel it. 

"This would be perfect," she managed to say, running her fingers down toward the silver clasp of his mantle. "But usually we try to run the wire under your clothes so it's not distracting." She held up the transmitter with a long wire that ended in a small, discreet microphone.

He swallowed. She was close enough to watch the curve of his throat bob—and it fascinated her. She thought for a split second about putting her mouth on that neck, then had to make an effort to keep her head from spiraling down that particular rabbit hole.

"That's inconvenient," he murmured.

"Not everybody has mastered fully self-sustaining miniaturized power sources." She jiggled the transmitter at him. "It needs a place to put batteries."

He grinned at her. "You're so cute when you talk about electrochemistry. Go on, say something else about how smart I am."

 _Oh_. Her heart leapt at that pleased grin and she did her best to look unfazed. She shoved the transmitter and the microphone into his chest, spinning on her heel. "Just hide the cord, okay?"

She could hear him fiddling with the transmitter. He probably knew exactly how it was built with just a glance. "If you've got five minutes," he said, "I can get rid of the cord and the batteries completely."

Roxanne half turned back toward him, shooting a challenging look over her shoulder. "Fine. But only if I can film you doing it."

He narrowed his eyes. "Without giving away any of my secrets, of course."

"Okay. You get final approval of the footage. Deal?"

"Deal." He snapped his fingers at two brainbots hovering nearby and they set off, knowing exactly what he wanted. A moment later they returned—one with a toolbox, the other with an illuminated magnifier.

Megamind sat back down and went right to work. She'd never seen him at work before, but she was glad she'd had the foresight to ask for permission to film. He was **magnificent**.

His fingers flew over the tools in his box like the fingers of a maestro on a piano's keys. He didn't have to look to see what he needed—he latched onto each tool as though it were an extension of his body, a limb over which he had full control and awareness. He was so quick to dissemble the transmitter and the microphone, she didn't have time to keep up. She kept her focus on her filming—whatever he was doing was well beyond her.

She had a pretty accurate internal clock—the result of years of broadcasting on a rigorous schedule. So when he said five minutes, she was able to confirm it was five minutes. He might have even gotten it done with time to spare.

"There," he announced with a broad grin, clipping the newly improved microphone to his collar. He waved off the brainbots, who took the equipment with them. "Now! We may begin."


End file.
